


Flick, Please!

by coliei



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Instead of Hockey it's Ultimate Frisbee, This may be based on my experiences playing Ultimate, and its eerie similarities to Hockey Bro Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6745813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coliei/pseuds/coliei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Samwell Men's Ultimate Frisbee club recruited a new member. His name is Tony. He asks lots of questions.</p><p>AU in which all the bros play Ultimate. These are his first experiences on the team, and how he gets his nickname.</p><p>This is heavily based on my experience playing Ultimate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flick, Please!

“So, wait, if you land on one foot first in the endzone, then put the other down outside it, then THAT’S a point? But landing on both at the same time isn’t?”  
“Yeah, bro, it’s like college football.”  
“What’s the rule in college football? Do we do plays like they do? Am I gonna have to watch tape?”  
“Dude, Tony, chill. We play in like, one tournament per semester. It’s not that big of a deal. Just ask whoever’s on the field.”  
“But like, not the other team. Because they’ll say that you’re not in, even if you were. Even though spirit of the game and all that…”  
“Yeah, I know, right Holtz? Last time we played Dartmouth I was totally in on that universe point, and then their super tall guy was like ‘nuh uh, best perspective’”.  
As Ransom and Holster started commiserating about the call, Tony frowned. He had thought the Ultimate Frisbee club was just, like, throwing plates around on a field, y’know? But apparently there was running involved, and an endzone, and some play called a Best? Amazing? No, Greatest. Plus, like, a million fouls. Guess he would have to just keep asking questions.  
\---  
“So wait, how’s Lardo on the team again?”  
Tony’s question from the back seat was met with incredulous stares from Holster (via the rear view mirror) and Ransom, twisting around from the passenger side.  
“No, wait, just, she’s a girl, right? And we play in a men’s league… I’m not saying I agree with them, but aren’t there like, rules against that?”  
Ransom’s face relaxed a bit, but he kept one eyebrow quirked.  
“She played in high school. Samwell didn’t get enough interest to field a women’s team, and she wanted to keep playing. Also, there’s technically nothing about gender in the rulebook or league regulations. Shitty checked. I think half the reason he played was because Ultimate’s generally pretty inclusive.”  
Holster chuckled at that. “Yeah, but that didn’t stop those Amherst guys from assuming she can’t throw. Did you see their faces when she threw that sick flick from the sideline? That thing threaded right through the cup. Beautiful throw to Shits. On stall 9, even.”  
Tony didn’t quite understand what was being said, but he was pretty sure it was a good thing.  
“Man, I can’t believe Shitty graduated. He could catch anything,” Ransom lamented.  
“Hold on, what even is Shitty’s real name? How come you all call him Shitty?”  
“Rans, I gotta stop the car and explain nicknames! I don’t even care if we’re late!”  
“Bro, you can’t do that, we got a captain’s meeting to get to, otherwise we can’t play.”  
“Damn, you’re right... ugh, responsibility. That’s still permanently your job. Also, can you take the nickname thing? Gotta focus on driving. I don’t wanna get lost on the way to these fields again.”  
“Gotcha. Okay. Tony. There are three rules about an Ultimate nickname. One: once you have it, it is your given name. You go by nothing else on this team. Two: you receive your nickname at your first tournament, as in, the one we are going to today, from the vets, as in, us. Three: you will never, ever, find out where your nickname comes from. This rule includes never, ever telling teammates the origins of their names. Even if they’re ‘swawesome like Chowder’s.”  
“But Ransom, your last name is Oluransi. Maybe, like, your nickname has something to do with that?”  
Ransom sighed. “The vets Holster’s and my rookie year were not creative. They did not respect the three rules of nicknames. We are relics of a dark age, my young friend. But gone are the days of the unoriginal nicknames! This year and forevermore, the rookies shall rise with the power of the most creative, ‘swawesomest nicknames ever!”  
“We mostly just get drunk the night before the tourneys and make something up,” Holster added.  
\---  
“Okay, gang, first game is against Middlebury. We’re field 4. Get your cleats on and take a lap.”  
Tony pulled his cleats out of his backpack and plopped down next to Chowder, who was shaking turf bits out of his own shoes.  
“Is it true that our old captain didn’t have a nickname? And now he plays in the MLU for the Whitecaps?”  
“Hey, Ta- whoops, Tony. Yeah, Jack’s just never really stuck. Some people, though, their nicknames just fit, and it’s great!” Chowder beamed. “I didn’t know Tonka’s real name until my second semester last year!”  
“Wow,” Tony contemplated. He had watched a couple MLU highlight videos online, and he was pretty sure that the Whitecaps were featured in like, half. They jumped impossible heights to catch the Frisbee off of throws that seemed to hang in the air for hours. Jack Zimmerman’s layout defensive play the Whitecaps’ last game had actually made the ESPN highlight reel.  
“Yeah, it was great having him on the team, he had great breakside throws.” Chowder stood up and brushed off his hands. “Well, we should take a lap, but you wanna throw after? You can work on your flick!”  
“Flicks?”  
“Forehand throws. You’ll get there eventually. Let’s go!”  
\---  
“Hey, Tony, I need a sub, get in here!”  
Tony felt himself shoved in the general direction of Samwell’s endzone. What. He was subbing for Dex? He was jogging towards the line? He was getting an assigned position?  
“Okay, we’re going man, since we haven’t practiced zone. Ollie, Wicks, you take the two on the left. I’ll take Hat Guy, he likes to handle. Bitty, that super fast cutter. Apollo, Newt, you fight over who gets Sleeve Dude, other one gets Sick Flow. Tony, take… whoever’s left. I forget. On offense, I’ll handle with Bitty and Apollo; Newt, Ollie, wings, Wicks, Tony, you’re popping. Let’s go!”  
As he finished assigning positions, Holster raised the disc in his arm, and seeing a wave from the other team, jogged up to the line, whipped it across his body, and released it at an angle. Tony watched it climb into the sky, levelling out as it gained altitude. As it floated back down to the field, he saw his teammates’ backs running down the field after it. Crap. Tony sprinted as fast as he could towards the man he was supposed to mark. He vaguely heard someone on the other sideline call out “rock that scoober!”  
This guy was a lot taller up close. And fast too, wow. As he chased his mark down the field, Tony hoped the disc wouldn’t come his way, because he was having a hard enough time running after this guy, he didn’t think he could handle chasing a Frisbee, too. He needed his arms for running, there was no way he could use them to knock a disc down.  
Thunk.  
“Ow.”  
“Woo, Tony, heads up, but I guess you already got that! Nice D, bro. Maybe don’t use your head next time?”  
Well, turns out he didn’t need his arms.  
\----  
“Yo, gang, that’s half! Bring it in on the sideline!”  
At Ransom’s command, the team gathered on the side of the field. Tony thought they were up 8-5, but he could be wrong, he didn’t quite understand the whole scorekeeping with shoes thing, though Bitty had tried to explain it (“the sideways ones are five!” “But, wait, do the different pairs count for different points? My head hurts. Not from the disc.”).  
“Okay, team, good half. This team is at or above our level, but we’re playing well. Keep capitalizing on their turnovers, and staying chilly near the end. Holster, anything to add?”  
“Don’t think so, man, except…” Holster grinned. “Circle up!”  
Tony found himself forming a circle with the team, huddled together, arms around each other. For some reason everyone was whispering and looking at him? Well, except for Chowder, who was grinning and bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.  
“Tony, step into the circle!”  
“I’m already in it though? What do you—“ Nursey shoved him into the middle “—Oh.”  
Holster gestured, and the team fell silent. “Everyone,” he grinned, “this is Tango.”  
“TANGOOOO” came the cries from around the circle, which started collapsing in on Tony as Chowder and Bitty rushed in to hug him.  
“Okay, okay, we have another half to play! Get some water, starting seven is me, Holster, Nursey, Dex, Bear, Ghost… and Tango,” Ransom announced.  
“Yeah, man! Go get a Callahan this time!” Wicks slapped Tony’s shoulder as he jogged to the line.  
“Nursey, what’s a ‘Callahan’?” Tony asked.  
“Oh, it’s a rookie ritual when you get your name, didn’t they tell you? You play a point with your shorts around your ankles, but they also can’t touch your cleats or the field—“  
“Nursey, quit messing with Tango!” Holster yelled. “Tango, you’re busting deep then cutting under as soon as we receive. Let’s raise!”  
“Wait, where do I clear out if I don’t get the fris—“  
“No time for Tango questions, let’s go!”  
Well, he could add that to the pile of questions he had saved for later.

**Author's Note:**

> Ultimate term glossary:  
> Endzone: the area of the field you can score in. If you catch the disc/frisbee there, it's a point.  
> Spirit of the Game: a unique ultimate concept. Ultimate is self refereed, so SotG is like an honor code: you don't call fouls when they don't happen, you respect the other team's good plays, you're generally very sportsmanlike.  
> Universe (point): when the game has one point left to play, and the score is tied. You're playing for everything in the universe.  
> Greatest: a very rare play that is difficult to pull off. If the disc is going out of bounds, someone can jump from inbounds, catch it, throw it back in before they make contact with the ground out of bounds, and then a teammate can catch it and save the disc. I have seen this happen once ever.  
> Men's league: the Lardo situation is my situation. I'm a 5 foot woman playing with 6 foot dudebros. I cannot throw as well as Lardo though.  
> Flick: another word for a forehand throw.  
> Forehand: generally, the harder throw to learn. Throwing the disc on the same side of your body as your throwing arm. You flick your wrist forward, leading with your palm.  
> Backhand: the "dad throw". Throwing the disc starting with your arm across your body and your shoulder pointed where you want to throw to. You flick your wrist towards the intended target, leading with the back of your hand. Deceptively simple.  
> Stall (count): the time you have to throw the disc once in your possession. Ten seconds, which the other team counts out loud. If stall 10 is reached, possession goes to the other team.  
> MLU: one of the two professional ultimate leagues. Major league ultimate. The Whitecaps are Boston's real team. As of right now, Providence has no professional ultimate team.  
> Layout: diving to catch or smack the disc. The dive all the highlight reels show.  
> Breakside: the side of the field the defense tries to take away from a thrower.  
> Cup: part of the zone defense  
> Zone: a defensive strategy that makes it difficult to throw straight down the field.  
> Cutting/Popping: offensive techniques for getting open. Running back and forth with sharp changes in direction to lose your defender.  
> Scoober: a type of upside down throw  
> D: defense, sometimes a specific defensive play or event, sometimes general strategy  
> Turnover: when one team loses possession of the disc  
> Chilly: not making rash throws/decisions  
> Callahan: a real play, like a safety in football. You intercept the disc in your opponent's endzone and score off their bad throw.
> 
> I'm on tumblr as metasepiapfefferi. Come say hi!


End file.
